


heartlines

by crownedcirce



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, But only a little, Divination, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marauders, i see sin on the horizon, palmistry, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcirce/pseuds/crownedcirce
Summary: Sirius’ hands were something Remus had noticed about him first.





	heartlines

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a goblin and i'm back for this ship. 
> 
> this fic's title came from ["heartlines" by broods](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svZ666KgWqM) but is also derived from the line that tells us about someone's connection to love in palm reading. 
> 
> comments give me air to breathe.
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](https://punktsuki.tumblr.com/)

Sirius’ hands were something Remus had noticed about him first. They were both delicate and rough at once. Long, pale fingers would have looked elegant on anybody else. But, Sirius had sharp edges and an attitude that could bite and sink in as deep as his teeth. This, Remus had observed, left him with plenty to fight against. Scuffed knuckles, black nails, purple bruises that looked out of place on milky skin.

 

It wasn’t until later that he learned that Sirius had reasons to fight so hard. At all times, he was fighting against fate. Fighting against the stars that had already aligned.

 

The first time Remus held Sirius’ hand, Sirius had burned himself in potions class. Remus wasn’t entirely sure how he had managed it really, the cauldrons were clearly too hot to touch. But, Sirius had cursed just loud enough for him to hear it.

 

Sirius had insisted that it was fine but had hissed again in pain when they had gone back to their room to put their books away before dinner.

 

“Here,” Remus offered, rolling his eyes. “Clearly, you need some help. Let me.”

 

It was an odd instinct to have, he supposed. But, he took Sirius’ hand. He was gentle, of course, but he was confident in his movements as he gripped his wand in his other hand.

 

“I don’t need you to do that,” Sirius grumbled, attempting to pull his hand from Remus’ grip.

 

“It’s no big deal, come on,” he replied. He was smiling warmly, easily. “Just this once.”

 

Sirius relaxed, giving up rather easily if you asked Remus.

 

“ _Episkey_.”

 

Over time, Sirius grew more careful. It didn’t stop his hands growing rougher though, calloused from the way he gripped his wand and jagged from the way he bit his nails. They were still fascinating to Remus, his fingers long and adept at wielding his wand. He could probably look at him all day, noticing the small flicks of his wrist in class and the anxious fidgeting of his fingers everywhere else. There was a stealthiness that came over him when he was working, when he was concentrating. But, there was an agitation that Remus felt the need to help control when his mind clearly wasn’t preoccupied. Remus thought about that a little too much.

 

“Did you know,” he began one night while they were walking to The Great Hall together, “that you can tell somebody’s future by looking at their palm? Their fate?”

 

Sirius snorted in a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you still in divination Moony, do you really believe all that bogus?”

 

“I don’t know. I suppose.”

 

“I don’t know Moons, I don’t like the idea that everything is planned out and beyond my control. If it were, wouldn’t I be sitting in Slytherin right about now?” Sirius raised one black eyebrow, questioning.

 

“S’just what I’ve been hearing, Pads.”

 

Sirius stopped abruptly then. He narrowed his dark, grey eyes. “Okay,” he said, a challenge tainting the tone of his voice as he held out his right hand, palm up.

 

“What?” It was Remus’ turn to raise an eyebrow now.

 

“I don’t like the idea of fate. So, prove it.”

 

“Show you?” Remus asked nervously.

 

“Show me.”

 

Remus had not expected to hit some sort of sore spot with his excited rambling that evening. Or be given a challenge for that matter. He studied Sirius’ face for a moment. Once he observed that Sirius was not about to pull away,he took his hand in his.

 

“Uh,” He began. He really didn’t know much, that’s what studying was for. His own palm was beginning to get sweaty.  

 

“Yes?” Sirius encouraged. His voice had softened a little.

 

A lump formed in Remus’ throat that he swallowed down forcefully. He stared down at the hand in his and gently traced along the line that travelled from Sirius’ index finger down towards his wrist.

 

“Well this line is intercepted,” Remus looked back to Sirius’ eyes, still dancing light touches over the wrinkle in pale flesh. “Which. Well…”

 

“Go on…” Sirius smiled.

 

“Sirius,” His first name was spluttered out, choked on, and forced. He looked back to their hands, he couldn’t look at his face much longer. He had to know that this was real now, this was important. “The interception means you’ll die young.”

 

What Remus did not expect was for Sirius to gently close his fingers around Remus’ hand instead.

 

“Sirius?” Heat rose to colour Remus’ cheeks and the tips of his ears in pink.

 

“Wanna know what I see?”

 

“What?” Remus asked, hoping that the embarrassing hitch in his voice was inaudible.

 

Sirius cocked his head to the side. He’d heard it but, to Remus’ relief he didn’t comment.

 

“I see fraudulence,” he laughed. He didn’t let go of his hand though. “Our deaths are not preconceived plans. And if they were it’s got nothing to do with our hands, Moony.”

 

“You can tell a lot about someone by looking at their hands,” Remus argued. He moved to pull his hand from Sirius’ grip. He held on tighter though. Remus’ eyes grew wide and the blush across his face turned a deeper shade of red.

 

“Yeah, you can,” Sirius agreed. Remus saw the faintest hint of pink creep under Sirius’ pale complexion.

 

Oh.

 

Remus slowly raised both of their hands, face on fire, bringing the back of Sirius hand up to his lips. Sirius closed his eyes then, breath shaky.

 

They didn’t make it to dinner. Not by a long shot.

 

In the dark of their room, Remus ended up with his back against Sirius’ chest. The heat of Sirius’ bare skin setting his nerves alight where their uniforms had haphazardly bunched up. He pressed kisses to Sirius’ left palm before sucking on his index finger. Sirius’ breath was hot on the back of his neck, his forehead sweaty. Chants of _Moony, Moony, Moony_ and _come on, baby_ kept him in the moment and sent him to a place of euphoria at the same time. Sirius moaned behind him, his erection ignored and digging into the small of Remus’ back. His right hand was desperately shoved down the front of Remus’ trousers as he jerked him off.

 

With Sirius’ face pressed into the back of his hair, Remus came. He all but whimpered when Sirius’ hand was pulled from the heat of the fabric. To compensate, he gripped Sirius by the wrist and licked his palm, cleaning up the mess he had made. He pressed a kiss then to the line that began at his middle finger and curved down to his pinky. The heartline.

 

“I think you’re right, Pads. It’s all bollocks.”


End file.
